


Fletcher Conservatory

by Gingersnap



Category: Whiplash (2014)
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Classical Music, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jazz Age, Musicians, Older Man/Younger Woman, Passion, Piano, Romance, Sexual Content, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6929269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingersnap/pseuds/Gingersnap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An extension of Whiplash in an alternate story line involving a piano student named Elizabeth. Fletcher now has his own school and Elizabeth being the first girl accepted faces more trials than she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Elizabeth anxiously approached Fletcher conservatory, taking a deep breath before heading up the steps. She was hardly expecting to get in, but to her surprise, she did. She was previously attending Schaffer for her first year, but when she heard about Fletcher’s new music school, she applied for her second year. She didn’t get in. Not at first. They had a reputation for not accepting women into the program. There were of course, the attempted law suits for sexism, but the courts would always give him a pass when his only argument was “It’s not because she’s a girl. It’s because she’s not good enough, and she didn’t make the cut."

Not many women applied anyway, assuming out of fear of Fletcher. Elizabeth wasn’t afraid, though. She figured she’d have to suck it up here and there but she just wanted the chance to work with Terence Fletcher.

Fletcher conservatory had quickly scaled to the top music program in the country. Schaffer was foolish to fire him. Of course he came back out on top, better even. He made enemies, sure. But he also had many who saw him as the talented genius he is and had more than enough financial backing to start the school. Elizabeth knew all about Terence Fletcher, and thought she could handle what she was signing up for. She wasn’t exactly used to verbal abuse. Her parents were hard on her but she knew they loved her and understood the goal behind the tough love. She expected the same from Fletcher. Less love than tough, of course. She hoped maybe being the only girl in class, he would go easier on her.

Her acceptance process was already unique to how the system works. It was more of an unexpected audition that got her in. When Fletcher discovered her, it was at a funeral for a friend’s brother she was the pianist for, playing church hymns. Luckily it wasn’t until she was finished her postlude, her own arrangement of a well known church hymn,and people were leaving the congregation one by one. When everyone had exited the chapel, she turned to gather her music. To her surprise, Terence Fletcher was standing in the doorway behind her. She gasped.

“That arrangement was lovely. I don’t recognize it. Who’s piece is it?” Fletcher asked, his voice low and quiet. 

Shocked that this man, famous for being an asshole, took time out of his day to pay someone a compliment. She looked down and remembered to breath. “It’s mine, actually. Thank you, sir.”

Fletcher took a few steps forward to approach the piano. “May I?”

Elizabeth just stared, too nervous to make a quick response. He was definitely more intimidating in person. He wasn’t exactly attractive at first glance, but there was something sexy about him she thought. He ignored her gaze and helped himself to the music..

“You wrote this?” He asked dully.

“Yes, sir.” She said with her eyes down, and her voice shook a bit. "When I was 16.” Elizabeth immediately felt foolish adding the age part, it was unnecessary. She was turning 31 next month.

“Why do you keep calling me sir?” He smirked. "Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes. I applied to your school last semester. I go to Shaffer.”

“You didn’t make it past first auditions?” Fletcher seemed unusually chatty. Although it came across natural. 

“I..I struggle with jazz. I’m more of a classical pianist. I obviously wasn’t good enough.” She didn’t mention she figured it was because he didn’t accept girls. She knew she could be good enough. Even if she didn’t really love jazz.

"Play me something.” He sat down in the pew behind her. 

Stunned, she hesitated for a moment. 

_What the hell, got nothin' to lose_  she thought as she mentally prepared for her impromptu audition. She decided on Caravan. She knew that one by heart, and it had a dramatic history attached in the last few years. The stories of Andrew Neyman ringing in her head-maybe it would make a statement, she thought.

She made four mistakes that she could count during the song before he stopped her. She knew she blew it. This man wanted perfection, and she blew it. He was halfway to the door when he called back to her.

“Class starts Monday at 9. Be there at 8 and I’ll get you up to speed.” 

She was speechless.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if Fletcher’s invitation was a for sure acceptance into his school or if it was kind of like a call back. She skipped class at Shaffer and would have hell to pay with the instructor if it doesn’t work out at Fletcher’s.

It was 7:47 when she showed up. The doors were locked. 

It was 8:32 by the time he showed up, and she was freezing from waiting outside for almost an hour. 

“Cold?” Fletcher noted. She nodded while her teeth chattered. He had a steaming cup of coffee.  _What an ass_ , she thought. Made her wait in the cold so he could get himself a cup of coffee. But then he handed it to her..

“Here, you need this more than I do..” 

Embarrassed, she took it from him and their fingers brushed briefly. She thanked him and he gave her a half smile while leading her inside. He was frustrated with himself for giving a shit, but he couldn’t help it. He planned to make her wait, but didn’t expect to care if she was cold.  

In the two times they were alone, he was a perfect gentleman. She knew he was extremely talented, but his reputation was terrible. So far, he was nothing like what everyone said about him. Unexpectedly kind and though firm, he hadn't raised his voice at her. He didn't give her verbal praise, but she assumed the physical touch- a hand on her back or shoulder from time to time was his version of a compliment. He’d even give her passes when she made a mistake on the songs he was introducing her to for class.  _What’s the big deal? He’s not so bad_..she thought.  

It was 8:52 and a huge group of musicians started making their way through the door to their seats. Nobody spoke, it was dead silent. She moved off the bench when the core pianist, Henry walked in. This was his last year. She assumed she’d be his replacement if she was lucky. 

Everyone in the room did a double take when they noticed the girl behind the piano. They all seemed to scramble even faster when they saw Fletcher was already in the room glaring at everyone, patiently waiting for them to get prepared. 

He ran through all the instruments and percussions and stopped when he got to the piano. 

“Well gang, you may notice it’s a lot less fucking ugly in here today. We’ve got a pussycat in the room. Isn’t she cute?” 

Elizabeth blushed. She hated having all eyes and attention on her.  

“This is Elizabeth Hudson and she’s going to be trying her damnedest to be part of our little group here today. Don’t fuck it up, beautiful.” he said with a wink, but there was no smile.

Elizabeth was extremely embarrassed and felt like crying already. His tone immediately changed once everyone was in the room. But she couldn’t help feeling flattered he called her beautiful.. even if he _was_ being sarcastic. She had a pit in her stomach. He definitely wasn’t going to go easy on her. 

The day only got worse. He called her up to play and screamed at her for more than half of it. She felt ridiculous, small and insecure. She didn’t cry, but for every second thought she would. 

She learned the new music faster than she’d ever learned anything before. Fear taught her that. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough to get him to quit screaming in her face. Instead, he lowered his volume to a slight holler from across the room.

Her fingers felt broken. Her wrists were weak. Her hands were shaking. She’d never been pushed like this before, but felt oddly motivated. 

She hoped he would hold her back after class to give her some sort of validation that she did in fact, make it into the school. Instead, he didn’t even acknowledge her or look up when she walked out from behind the piano, so she left with everyone else.

 

The next morning she decided to just show up at the same time as the other students. She got there at 8:45 just to be safe and Fletcher was already in the room playing the piano.  

She tried to sneak back out before he saw her, but without looking up, he called her name. 

“Elizabeth…” He said quietly, but his tone wasn’t friendly. "I’ve been here since 8:00 waiting for you. Did I tell you not to come early today?” 

“Oh, I didn’t kn-“ 

“I’m putting the reputation of my whole fucking school out on the line for your sorry ass and you think you can just show up like you’re just anybody? Your invite wasn’t for 9:00 like one of my students. You haven’t earned that title. I thought I saw something in you the other day but maybe I was mistaken. You’re just like all the other bitches who think they’re good enough to waltz in with their mediocrity. Is that you? Don’t tell me I wasted my fucking time like I clearly did this morning.” 

“I apologize, sir, I do.” she pleaded. "It didn’t occur to me to be here early again, please. It won’t happen again.”  

"You’re right. It won’t. If it does, you’re out. Which would be disappointing, I was getting used to seeing a pretty face in here. Warm up with your scales.” He said more calmly and shut himself in his office. Leaving her alone in the room.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Every day was the same. Just about everybody got screamed at so she didn’t feel  _too_  terrible when it was her turn under heat. Sometimes he would throw in an occasional sweetener between insults while snapping profanities like,

“She thinks because she’s cute she gets a pass, gang.” Or. “It must be a full time fucking job to be beautiful but could you go 3 measures without fucking up?”  Sometimes it could almost pass as a flirt, but then sometimes he would call her a dumb cunt and every once in a while and she’d have one or two silent tears that she was sure nobody saw behind the piano.

The sweeteners were necessary or she’d have walked out by now and Fletcher knew that. He also knew he had to be tough on her, because he saw major potential. He just didn’t want it to be too obvious that he  _wanted_  to go easier on her. Every time he yelled at her, he wanted to swoop her up to comfort and wipe the tears she thought she was hiding. He didn’t know if it was because she was a girl or what. Usually tears made him livid. With her, he felt empathy. He felt guilty, but he had to do it. 

 Three weeks in, Fletcher brought in another girl, Melanie. Cymbals. She was cute and her job was easy. Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy when she went the first couple days without getting screamed at, but then felt much better on day three when Fletcher chucked one of her cymbals across the room and kicked her out for the day. She wasn’t off beat. Elizabeth knew it. But she also knew Fletcher had a reputation of ass hole to uphold. 

She wanted to hate him from the beginning, somedays she did. But also began to think about him in ways she shouldn’t. While soaking her aching wrists and fingers in the tub, her mind would go places. The fantasies started about the time he would lightly place a hand on her back on her way out to silently reward her for doing good that day.  She didn’t anticipate she’d get a crush on teacher with Fletcher, especially hearing what he was like.. But now she couldn’t keep her mind off him. Even when he yelled at her. It started to turn her on. But she knew it was fantasy, and that she should hate him for the chauvinistic pig he is.  It was just hard to be consistent in a feeling for or against him. The hot and cold was driving her crazy. In their one on one practices before class, he was much more gentle and calm. Periodically getting frustrated, but nothing like when he loses his temper in class. She was perpetually confused.

 

The next morning, it was her birthday. She would have forgot had it not been for the text from her mom and a few friends from back home. For her, it was just another day. She got to school at 7:50 like usual, and the doors were already unlocked. She walked in and looked through the classroom window to find Melanie already there. She didn’t seem nervous around Fletcher at all. In fact her body language was definitely suggesting something else. Elizabeth saw red. She didn’t know exactly why it made her so mad, but she wanted to smash Melanie’s head with her cymbal. Fletcher didn’t seem to react much to Melanie at all. In fact, he stepped away from her a bit. He instinctively looked back and caught Elizabeth watching through the window. Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed. 

She cooly knocked on the door and walked in..

“We were just going over the schedule for the upcoming performance. Melanie had some questions. ..Melanie, you can come back at 2. We won’t need you before lunch…Are you ready, Liz?” Fletcher seemed nervous, actually. Frustrated with himself. Why was he explaining himself to her?

Elizabeth was caught off guard, it was the first time he called her Liz. The endearment gave her butterflies, especially given in front of Melanie. Only her parents and close friends called her Liz. She of course didn’t correct him as she tried to hide her smile. She glared at Melanie on her way out. Obviously she was in here uninvited trying to butter him up, probably so he’d go easier on her.  _Fuck off, Melanie._  Elizabeth thought.

 

“Can you help me with bar 19 to 34 of that new chart? I can’t seem to get my fingers to stretch to octaves for that long..” Elizabeth confessed. She wasn’t as nervous admitting her failures in private.

“If we have time after class. I need you to practice Whiplash this whole hour. We perform it on Friday and I need you to be prepared. Today.”

Their practice was boring and frustrating. She was hoping he’d be in a good mood but he was worse than usual. Snapping more and not looking directly at her when he spoke. He wouldn’t sit next to her on the piano like he sometimes would. Just dictated like he does in class. She asked for a break and ran to the bathroom in tears. She had gotten used to him being nicer when they were alone, she was silently hoping he’d be in a good mood on her birthday. Not that he knew. _Even if he did, would he even care?_ she thought. Her pride and feelings were hurt. She sucked it up and made sure to be back in class by 9.

 Things went shittier as the day went on. The attitude for the day had been set. She wasn’t turned on today by his dominant behavior. She was annoyed and had little patience.

Fletcher dropped profanity bombs left and right. Even he knew he was overdoing it. Just so humiliated from that morning, he was overcompensating for the weakness he showed when he saw Elizabeth in the window. He didn’t want her to think anything was happening with Melanie. He shouldn’t care. He tried over and over again to get the feelings in check he had developed for Liz. He didn’t blame himself for being attracted to her. Any man would be. She was gorgeous. Simple, but gorgeous. He thought so the first time he saw her. Her long brunette hair, usually up in a messy bun. She was casual, natural and low maintenance. She didn’t back talk but also didn’t seem near as insecure around him as the rest of the class did. He’d be aware of when he’d hurt her and it made him sick. This is one of the reasons he’d avoided having girls in his class. Or maybe it was just Liz. He didn’t feel a second of guilt toward Melanie. In fact, she pissed him off even being in the room. She was useless but felt another female presence was necessary for Elizabeth. He hoped it would make her feel more secure in a room full of men. Little did he know, Elizabeth hated having Melanie there.

 

After class, Fletcher noticed a couple of the guys wishing Elizabeth a happy birthday on the way out.  _Shit, I’ve been a fucking dickhead to her all day._  He thought. He wanted to make up for his behavior today, somehow. 

“Liz, stick around a minute.” he called after her.

She turned around to walk back to him.

“How would you feel about coming by my place to go over what you asked about earlier? Bar 19? I don’t mind working with you longer, but I do need to get out of this fucking room.”

Caught off guard by the invite, Elizabeth took a moment to answer..

“uhm..”

“Or, we can just pick up with it tomorrow morning if we have time after Whiplash.” Fletcher rambled, still not acknowledging her birthday.

“No that’s ok, I can come by tonight. I just have to cancel dinner plans. I had a date that I didn’t want to go on anyway..” she lied. She never does anything after class.  

“If you’re canceling dinner, we'll stop for a bite on the way. I’m sure you’re hungry. Come on.”

And just like that, it was hot again. She was  _getting_  whiplash from the hot and cold. 

Elizabeth tried not to get excited. She knew he would never have feelings for her. One, it’s inappropriate, he’s her instructor. Two, He’s likely double her age, maybe more. He probably thinks she's a pathetic little girl and just wanted to make up for calling her a dumb twat earlier. But his mood was lighter and she was like a moth to a flame. She packed up and waited with him as he locked up the school so she could follow him to the restaurant.

 


	4. Chapter 4

They sat down in a jazzy bar and grill and Fletcher ordered them some drinks. Elizabeth was always hesitant to drink. She was small and a major light weight, but didn’t want to be rude after he’d already ordered. It  _would_  be nice to see a relaxed side to him, she thought. Especially today. 

“Have you eaten here? I usually just get the burger to go. I rarely get a chance to sit in and eat.” Fletcher tried making conversation. He could tell Elizabeth was uncomfortable but just figured it was out of being with someone who screams at her all day. Nothing more. 

“That sounds good, I’ll have that too. I never get a chance to go out to eat. Ever, actually.” She replied. 

“Really? What do you do with all your time? I’d figure you’d be on a date every night, cute girl like you, free meals all week.” He joked, his mood lighter. 

“What do you think I’m doing? All I do in my free time is practice and sleep, then wake up early to practice more with you.” She was already braver after her first drink. 

Fletcher didn’t say anything in reply. He didn’t know what to say. If she wanted to be great, her life would revolve around piano.  “Tell me about your family..” Fletchers mood was changing with the alcohol, too. He was genuinely interested in finding out more about her. 

They stayed well past 10. Had a few drinks each and Elizabeth felt extremely loopy. Fletcher was fine. Three drinks was nothing. But for her, she was one drink away from being completely wasted. 

The waiter came by with the check and Fletcher slid him his card. “Oh, I’ll get mine..” Elizabeth said as she reached for her purse, but the waiter had already walked away with Fletcher’s card. 

“No no, my treat.” He interjected "Nobody should have to buy themselves dinner on their birthday.”  

She blushed. “Do you take all your students out for their birthdays?” She couldn’t believe she just asked him that. Must be the alcohol. 

“Nope. I also don’t make a habit of spending extra practice time with my students, so I must really be going fucking soft.” He bantered.  She looked down, trying to hide her smile. Maybe she wasn’t imagining things. Maybe he liked being around her.. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to drive home..but I also don’t think I’m lucid enough to practice either.” She slurred.. 

“Maybe being relaxed will help you. Lets go, we’ll try to run it through a few times. I’ll drive you to your car as soon as you’ve sobered up.” He said, wrapping an arm around her, helping her walk straight.

The conversation on the walk to his condo was flowing and natural, and at some point Fletcher gave her his coat. They talked about movies and music and she confessed jazz was not something she was a die hard fan of. He seemed disappointed but not mad. They talked about why he was at that funeral, being that it was his good friend’s son that died. He told some stories and she loved hearing him talk fondly of someone. He explained a bit why he’s so hard on everyone, and it strangely made sense to her. Even though she wished it wasn’t at her expense. She found both sides in him attractive in different ways.  

Approaching his door together, Fletcher was suddenly aware this was feeling like a date and he ought to change the vibe. He didn’t want Elizabeth to feel like his plan all along was to come onto her. He was being honest. He did want to get out of the room they’d been stuck in all day. Though he enjoyed being more candid with her, he must also still uphold the role of her teacher. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed a student had developed a crush on him. He was just surprised it was her. 

Elizabeth noticed the change in his attitude, but was too buzzed to care. He excused himself for a moment and told her to make herself comfortable. She sat at the bench of his beautiful Steinway piano and started playing her favorite classical piece while she waited. Fantasie Impromptu. She must have still been a little drunk because she got through the whole song before she realized how long she’d been playing. She turned around and he was leaning against the wall behind her, just listening. 

“You’re much more relaxed when you play classical. Or maybe it’s the liquor.” He commented as he walked over to the bench to sit beside her, handing her a glass of red wine. Not that she needed more alcohol, but she sipped it anyway. He was still in that black shirt she loved that made his arms look…she shook her head. She was definitely still buzzed and she realized she was staring. She bit her lip and looked down. 

“Show me what you’re having a problem with..” he graciously acted like he didn’t notice.  

She thought she’d be nervous being at his place but she was strangely comfortable and relaxed. His home was neat and organized. It was beautifully furnished and had more musical instruments and antiques than she could count. It’s a lot like how she pictured it, but homier. It was only a one bedroom loft but the living spaces were large and he had an amazing view of the city, his piano faced the window so he could gaze out while he played.  It was perfect. 

Sitting together on the bench, he was back to business and she was fine with that. There were 8 measures where the octaves were constant sixteenth notes and she couldn’t get it down. Her hands being small, kept cramping.  

Fletcher reached around her and put his hand over hers to show her how she should alternate stretching her middle, to ring to pinkie finger every other octave to help for a smoother, more comfortable transition. He may have let his hand linger on hers for a beat longer than necessary, grazing his fingertips just barely back up her hand and forearm before returning them to his own lap. The intended affect showed success as he heard a faint sigh from Elizabeth. She could hardly breath or move. Her urge to lean into him was overwhelming. Being so close to him, she couldn’t help but breath in his scent. The alcohol was definitely heightening every feeling and fantasy she’d had about him. She kept getting waves of light headedness. She couldn’t believe how buzzed she still was. The wine wasn’t helping. 

She ran through it a few times more for good measure and he smiled and nodded at her in approval, even though she was a bit drunk and sloppy. He was probably just doing all that he could to not laugh at how ridiculous she was, she thought. There was never any “good job” comments. He didn’t believe in that. But he did have his ways of letting you know he’s satisfied. 

“I hope you know, I do appreciate all the extra time you take to work with me.” She said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap. When she looked up at him, he was already looking at her. Their eye contact lingered for a moment too long and she thought she saw his eyes flicker down at her mouth. 

Bravely, she got up first and started wandering around, admiring the records on the wall. He came up close behind her, close enough to whisper in her ear. He pointed over her shoulder to his favorite one, rambling on about it.  

In all honesty, she wasn’t paying attention. A mix between the alcohol and the close proximity of his mouth to her ear had her spinning. She fell backwards right into him. 

“Shit. Liz. You need to lie down. Now” he said as he helped her over to the couch.  

“I’m fine. I just need some water.  I think I drank too much.” She mumbled as she started to lose consciousness. 

By the time Fletcher made it back to her with water from the kitchen, she was out cold. "Fuck.” He felt ridiculous.  _Well I’m not going to make her sleep on the couch,_ he thought.

He carried her to his bed, took off her shoes and tucked her in. He thought about climbing in bed next to her but decided he should probably just stay on the couch for the night. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey.”  Fletcher said, unceremoniously trying to wake Elizabeth. It was 8:17 and he couldn’t let her sleep any longer. He had never been late to a class and he wasn’t about to start.  

She wasn’t moving. 

“Liz, get up.” He said a bit more loudly. She slowly blinked open her eyes, and immediately snapped up and gasped, looking around, not sure where she was. 

She focused on Fletcher and seemed to relax for a second. Then realizing she was in his house, in his bed, and it was light outside, she panicked. 

“Oh shit! Shit! I’m so sorry, Fletcher. I don’t normally drink, so when I do it doesn’t take much for me to lose it. I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sorry. Are we late for practice?” 

“I let you sleep through our morning practice but it’s almost 8:30. Our cars are still at the bar so we have to walk. It's a quick ten minutes but we need to leave now. Hurry up, let’s go.” 

Elizabeth quickly gathered her things, wiped her makeup from under her eyes and rinsed with some of Fletcher's mouth wash.  

"Now! Let's go!" she heard Fletcher yelling from the living room and scurried out the door. 

On the walk there he explained how she ended up sleeping over and he wasn’t upset, but she just kept apologizing over and over again. She was surprised he seemed perkier than usual. He was smiling and laughing and she didn’t want their short walk to end. 

“Had I known you were such a pansy light weight, I would’ve just driven you home after dinner.” Fletcher teased. 

“I enjoyed our drunk birthday practice, actually.” she laughed as she spoke.  

“Let’s see if you retained anything. Maybe I should get you drunk before all our practices.”  

They both laughed. It was strange laughing with Fletcher. He was so mercurial. She never really knew what side she would get of him, but she wanted all of it. 

 

The hangover during class was brutal. Two hours felt like two days. She was a mess. 

Fletcher kindly let her take a back seat in class for the first portion of the day before lunch but couldn’t go easy on her for long. Their competition was in a couple days and she needed to get her shit together. She had an hour for lunch and ran home to change, brush her teeth and quickly throw down some coffee in time to return to class. She made it with 10 minutes to spare. Fletcher called her into his office. 

“Feeling ok now?” Fletcher asked sarcastically. 

“Better. Thank you for dinner and for… well just for everything.” She said sheepishly. 

“Well I wanted to give you a break this morning. Seeing as how you can’t handle your alcohol, I’m sure you’re hungover.” he smiled. “But I have to run our performance songs to make sure you’re ready. Are you going to be able to keep it together?” It was a warning, she knew what he was getting at.  

She nodded and smiled, but she already felt like crying. She was so high from last night, it was a long way to fall when his mood flipped. He looked at her for a long moment intensely- like he wanted to say something, instead he just squeezed her encouragingly on the shoulders and ran his hands down her arms on the way out the door, and she took her seat at the piano bench. The small contact left her with warm shivers spreading throughout her body and he with longing to touch more of her. The warning was a tender mercy because the next couple days were brutal. 

 

On the day of the performance, she was feeling lower than ever. It had been days since he’d looked at her softly or talked to her rather than snap at her. She felt like shit. She was beginning to feel as if she'd imagined the whole dinner and night at his house. He had her emotions up and down and she couldn’t take it. She was breaking. 

He pulled her into a vacant room with a piano to practice once more before they went in front of the audience. He was obviously stressed too, because he was pushing her and yelling at her even though she wasn’t making any mistakes. Screaming profanities at her, telling her to pick up her tempo. She wasn’t even hiding her tears anymore which made him go even more crazy. 

“You’re crying now? I’m not even sure you deserve to be here! Pick up your fucking time! You’re better than this!"

..and then he slammed the key cover right over her hands.

 

Why he did that, he had no idea. Instant regret. He always gets stressed on competition days and ends up taking it out on his most valuable student. Immediately he wanted to grab her and hold her, instead he just glared at her like it was her own damn fault. He was just as stunned as she was. 

She didn’t even look at him. She just got up, wiped her tears and walked out on him and the competition. It wasn’t worth this type of abuse. Nothing was. 

He didn’t call out after her as he watched her walk out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Three days went by that she didn’t show up to school after she skipped out on the competition. He could've broken her hands. How could she possibly play? He couldn’t blame her, could he? She didn’t really care if she got kicked out anymore.

 She wanted to hate Fletcher. She  _should_  hate him. But she didn’t. She laid in bed with bruised wrists and swollen fingers because of him but all she could think about was that she wanted to be around him. She even missed his yelling and snarky remarks.

 Two more days had passed and the swelling in her fingers went down, but the bruises were still there. She hardly moved out of bed. The depression was unreal. Her roommate was extremely worried about her-she only got up to shower and maybe eat something once a day. 

At 7:00pm there was a knock on the door and Elizabeth heard her roommate arguing with who she thought was maybe a new boyfriend or something.

When her bedroom door knocked, she assumed it was her roommate and invited her in. She heard the door creak open and close from behind her. 

“Liz.” 

Elizabeth whipped around, emotion flooding her when she saw it was Fletcher in her room.

She was so overwhelmed, she couldn’t even speak. She rolled back over, put her face in her hands, and started to quietly sob.  

He couldn’t handle it. Not two seconds later, he crawled in bed behind her and wrapped his arms around her, cradling her back to his front. He didn’t even consider it might make her uncomfortable. He just couldn’t stand to watch her cry without consoling her. He certainly wasn’t going to scream at her again. He just held her as she cried. 

“It’s ok. It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he said, almost a whisper as he stroked her hair, his fingers making brief contact with the skin on her neck. She couldn’t be mad at him when he was touching her, it was euphoric. 

Once calmed down, she rolled over to face him. Still not speaking, not looking at him, just curled into his chest. His arms held her strong and close and he lightly grazed her bare back with his thumbs where her shirt had hiked up. It was the slightest bit of skin contact, but was driving her crazy. Every touch was leaving goosebumps and she didn’t care if he noticed. 

 Arising urges were breaking her wall down. Her tenseness and anger disappearing. She began to relax beside him and let her hand rest on his chest.

“Elizabeth, I…” he paused.

She couldn’t bear to listen to him continue to struggle through an apology. She knew that’s why he came but she didn’t need to hear it anymore. 

She was extremely overwhelmed with desire, being so close to him. His arms tightened around her as she ran her hand up his arm, around his bicep, into his sleeve. 

No longer able to stop herself, she leaned her head up, grabbed his face and crushed her lips to his before he could continue. A wanting, heat of the moment, fuck me kiss. She surprised herself. She never took initiative like this with the three other men she’d been with.

Guiding his hand down lower on her hip, she didn't even consider the possibilty of rejection. 

His hand instinctually slid down her thigh to hitch it around himself. Gliding his hand around her ass on the way, his fingertips brushed her sex just barely. She moaned slightly into his mouth.

That brought Fletcher back to reality. He snapped out of it and pulled away.

“Fuck. Elizabeth, what are you doing! Listen, you’re emotional and confused. You don’t want me.. I know you think you do, but you don’t.”

“Shut up, Fletcher. I’m not confused, and I’m emotional  _because_  I want you.”  she panted and kissed him again, this time climbing on top to straddle him as she did. 

“Since when.” He interceded. She would've thought he was mad by his tone had his hands not been sliding up along her back under her shirt.

She paused long enough to help him pull it off…

“Since day one, now fuck me.” she demanded as she lowered herself back down to press their lips together again.

This time, he didn’t stop her. He pulled her closer, holding her tight to him while the kiss deepened.

It put her fantasies of him to shame. She loved the gentle side to him but was grateful he wasn’t being so gentle now. He took control of the kiss, hard and purposeful, grabbing her hips and ass while she was grinding against him. 

"You know, you’re making it really hard for me to be the responsible adult here” he said as he gripped her thigh with one hand and her waist with the other to flip and pin her beneath him. Not wasting any time, he began undressing her. He only had to yank once on her pants and they were at her ankles. Elizabeth undid her bra while he was making his way back up to kiss her again. He moved from her mouth to below her ear, trailing down her throat, pressing himself to her. She felt his hardness and couldn’t stop herself from rubbing against him, welcoming the pressure.

While his lips still on her neck, his hand moved slowly down over her breasts, past her torso and into her panties. She mewled as his fingers found her clit, massaging for a moment before trailing them down to feel her wetness. There was definitely no doubt she wanted him.

“I want to taste you.” His voice low in her ear as his fingers stroked her up and down before he forced two in and out of her slowly. She could have exploded from the words alone.

He slid down, taking her panties with him and he forced her legs apart. Keeping his fingers circling on her clit, he bent his head down and began exploring her with his tongue. She began to convulse.

“Aghhh, Fletcher! Fuck me,  _now_. Please.” she begged as she began to tighten around his fingers.

He sat up and ripped down his pants just enough to thrust himself into her roughly, holding tight to her waist as he fucked her vigorously. "Fuck!” he hissed.

Her moaning and tightening around his cock as she reached her second orgasm sent him over the edge and he collapsed with her.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Both exhausted, Fletcher laid to the side of her and covered her up with the sheet. He was still fully dressed.

“Where the fuck did that come from” he snapped with a hint of a smile. “Just so you know, I came here to apologize. I probably shouldn’t have let that happen.."

Elizabeth came down to earth and was suddenly aware. She tried not to be shy but she ducked her head into his chest. Not wanting to get into a serious conversation, she changed the subject.  

“Am I allowed to come to class tomorrow or am I kicked out?” 

He rolled to his back and let out a sigh. Shit, she thought, maybe this wasn’t the best thing to bring up right now. 

“I want you there, I think you deserve to be there, you’re a great pianist, Liz. But I can’t talk to you the way I do in class anymore, and I also can’t be giving you special treatment in front of the other musicians. Most the shit I’d bitch at you for I had to pull out of my ass anyway. It’s important that my students don’t get too cocky, because the performance will slip. It’s also important that the rest of the class sees you as equal to them. But I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t think I can talk to you like that anymore.” His mood was shifting. 

She put her head on his chest and his arms enveloped her. 

"I understand the yelling. I do. I’m just nervous you’ll lose it again like at the competition. I’m scared I’ll disappoint you like that again..” she began to tear up. 

“Liz, none of that was your fault. I fucked up. I knew I fucked up the second it happened. I’ve been frustrated with myself for the feelings I was developing for you. Every day was a struggle being around you, having to keep my feelings in check. Add the stress of the competition to that and I just fucking lost it. It’s not an excuse but that’s the truth. I felt like shit, I wanted to run after you. Instead I did nothing. I can’t imagine what you’ve been feeling. I’m truly sorry, Elizabeth. I hope you know that.” He admitted with tears in his eyes. 

Tears were streaming down her face. She leaned up and kissed him again.  

 "I can handle myself on the day to day. I want to come back to class. I want to improve and I’ve learned so much from you, the fear motivated me, I think. Yell at me if you have to. I trust you. It won’t make me as uncomfortable now that I know why.” 

“We’ll see how tomorrow goes.” He softly kissed her forehead, and Elizabeth finally dozed off.

 

It was 4am when she woke up, and Fletcher was gone. 

She showered and started getting ready for the day. She noticed she had two hickeys. A visible one on her neck and one on her collarbone. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about everyone seeing a hickey on her neck, but she also thought it was sexy. She imagined Fletcher snapping at her in class, seeing the hickey and getting turned on remembering their night. 

Her fingers and hands were still sore but she figured it was time she stretch through the pain.She left earlier than usual to stop and grab coffee for her and Fletcher on her way to school.

Fletcher was already there, sitting in his office when she arrived at 7:45. 

“Hey..” She knocked on his door, hesitantly. Not sure how to behave around him now. 

He looked up and smiled at her. “Come in.. I was hoping you’d be here early.” 

“I brought you coffee.” She offered, walking up to him. Still unsure of herself, she kept a small bit of distance, leaning against the table."What time did you leave last night?” 

 Fletcher reached for her arm to pull her so she was standing in front of him. He slid his hands around her waist, pulling her down to his lap, both legs to one side. She instinctively wrapped her arms around him, thankful he made the first move. 

He pulled her in for a quick kiss hello before answering. 

“I’m not sure. I think it was around 1:30. I didn’t sleep much, so thank you for the coffee.” 

“Well, you should just stay with me next time, then.” She said coyly, leaning in to kiss him again.  

Afraid he’d get carried away, he didn’t let the kiss deepen. He helped her get up and suggested they start practicing to get her caught up on the new charts.

 

Class was..interesting. She didn’t play at all before lunch. Fletcher didn’t acknowledge her once. They didn’t have lunch together for the sake of not being obvious to the class, so she went alone. 

On her way back, she ran into her friend, Steve from Schaffer.  They chatted about what she’s been up to and he walked her back to her school building. Right as he hugged her goodbye, she saw Fletcher walk in the door from the corner of her eye. She said goodbye to her friend and tried to hurry in to catch Fletcher. By the time she got to the studio, students were already back setting up their instruments, so she took her seat behind the piano. 

At 1:00 sharp, Fletcher came storming out of his office like he does, not saying a word, just raising his hand to start. He didn’t even glance at Elizabeth. Shortly after the first set, he called her to the piano, still not looking at her. He made her run through the measures she practiced with him and was back to his snarky remarks.  

“I see you've enjoyed taking time off to fuck around and get hickeys, but obviously the alternative to practicing has put you way behind. You need to catch up and quick because I don’t have fucking time for this.”  

She had to look down for fear she might laugh. He still intimidated her immensely but she hoped for some reason he’d acknowledge the hickeys. He didn’t scream at her but kept making her repeat the same four measures. It was torture on her sore fingers and she had to stop for a brief second to stretch them.  

“Did I tell you to stop playing?” he said coldly. 

“It…it’s my fingers.” she whispered. 

“Do I look like fucking santa claus? Play the damn part.” 

She looked at him once before starting again. It wasn’t perfect but he moved on. She couldn’t tell if this was an act or not. He did see her hug her friend. Was he jealous? 

He left her alone for the majority of the rest of class. She lingered after until everyone left. He looked at her once and motioned for her to follow him into his office. She felt like she was in trouble.

“You alright?” He asked, but still seemed upset. 

“I think so.” she said. Leaning against the doorway.“Are you?” 

He didn’t answer as he walked over to fiddle with some papers on his desk. 

“Are you mad? Did I do something wrong? Other than fuck up measure 21..” 

“That’s not it. And no, you did nothing wrong. I just want to make sure you’re ok after today.” he said but she still wasn’t convinced.  

She just stood there quietly as he approached her. He pulled her hand up to his lips. 

He let out a sigh and seemed to force himself to relax.  “How about we head to my place for dinner?” 

She smiled and nodded as he took her hand.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Fletcher sent Elizabeth to practice the piano while he prepared them dinner, calling out timing and corrections while he cooked. It made her smile. He was of course, an amazing cook. She didn’t doubt he was good at everything he did. 

They were both pretty quiet during dinner. It was almost awkward, he wasn’t making much eye contact with her.  

“So, who’s the boy.” He said out of nowhere as they began clearing their plates to the kitchen. _Ohh_  she thought. She couldn’t help but smile. It turned her on that he was jealous.

“What boy?” she teased, leaning against the counter.

Fletcher gave her an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s a friend from Schaffer. I just ran into him on my way back from lunch and he walked with me. He’s only ever been a friend.”

“He’s a young, handsome guy.."  He said in a witty tone while walking slowly toward her, "why aren’t you dating him?” He asked, linking his arms around her waist. Their lips almost touching.

“Do you want me to?” She giggled against his lips.

“No.” he smirked and immediately pushed her up against the wall, one hand reaching behind her neck as he kissed her, assertively. 

She felt him harden as the kiss deepened. She couldn’t help but reach down into his pants to feel him, stroking his length. He groaned quietly against her and in one swift move, picked her up and sat her on the edge of the counter. Her choice in clothing was premeditated in hopes this would be a possibility. A long skirt with no panties. She hiked her skirt up as he slid into her slowly, his thrusts progressively getting more aggressive, while his mouth moved sensually against her neck. Things were falling to the floor.  He didn’t care. He kept pounding into her until they both reached their climax. 

 

At some point, they made their way to the living room and Fletcher sat down at the piano while Elizabeth listened to him play a jazz piece she’d been trying to master for years. It was only her second time hearing him play. No wonder he was such a perfectionist at school. Music was clearly a first language to him. She realized why he got so frustrated with every mistake in class, because he didn’t make any. It made her sad actually. Usually people this talented have horrible childhood stories attached to their success. She sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder while running her hand up and down his back.

“I think I’m in love with you.” she murmured. He slowly came to a stop and looked at her. His reaction wasn’t what she was hoping for. He just kind of stared at her, and didn’t look thrilled. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

He brought his hand up to rub his temples. “Liz… Doesn’t it bother you that I’m almost double your age? This has already gone farther than I should have let it..”

She began to panic, feeling rejected. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She hated like she was coming across like the desperate student. She tried to play it cool and quickly excused herself. She hurried off the bench and ran into his bathroom.

Immediately tears were streaming down her face. She couldn’t stop it. Thinking she shouldn’t have said anything, she fell to the floor, face in her hands. Fletcher knocked on the bathroom door.

“You ok? Can I come in..” 

 She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “I’m fine. I’m just cleaning myself up. I’ll be right out.”

He didn’t respond so she decided to quickly jump in the shower to wash the smell of him off of her. She was mad, and embarrassed. She stood under the hot water trying to calm her emotions but all she could do was cry. She felt so stupid and used. She’d only been in the shower for maybe two minutes by the time Fletcher walked in behind her. 

Still feeling ridiculous, she just stood there, arms folded over her breasts, looking down. 

“Liz..” he said quiet and low, as he pulled her naked body into his arms. They just stood there, he held her as she tried not to cry. 

“I’m sorry, I know how I must look to you. I just..”she struggled. 

“You’re getting me all wrong, you’re overreacting.” Fletcher soothed as he stroked her back. “Can't you tell I feel the same? I hated seeing you even talking with that boy. I want you to be only mine. But, as much as I want to, I can not be selfish. The age gap between us-“ 

“I don’t care about that!” she snapped through tears. “I like that you’re older. It’s part of what attracts me to you. You have so much more experience and maturity than all the fucking guys my age. You’re amazing. Scary, sometimes. But brilliant. I have never felt this way about anyone.” 

Fletcher kissed her then, soft. He wrapped a towel around her and carried her to his bed where he made love to her more passionately than before. Taking his time with each touch.

 

 

Fletcher woke up just after 6am like he always did when the sun bled through the blinds. He looked over at a still naked, sleeping Elizabeth. She had rolled to the edge of the bed, back to Fletcher. He stroked the length of her back and she stirred, moaning slightly. He wrapped his arm around from behind her and kissed her shoulder. He ended up falling back to sleep with her in his arms.

Elizabeth woke with a startle at 8, worried she’d missed class. Realizing she was still in bed with Fletcher, she gazed at him for a few moments before waking him up.  

“Hey... It’s 8.” She spoke softly. 

Fletcher began to stretch his arms, eyes adjusting on Elizabeth. While his arms outstretched, he seized her and pulled her swiftly back to his chest to hold her close. She laughed. 

“Fletcher! We don’t want to be late for rehearsal!” She teasingly swatted at his arm trying to get him to release her. It only made him tighten his hold. 

“Don’t you think by now you can start calling me by my actual name? I mean, you  _are_  naked in my bed..” He said jokingly. 

“What if I get used to calling you Terence and the other students get jealous and see the kind of special treatment you’re giving me..” She winked. 

“Fuck them. I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it.” He knew it was cheesy to say so he made sure to emphasize the corniness of the phrase by singing it.

She laughed as she kissed him. Then realized, he said it back. “Oh, so you're in love are you..” She questioned.

“Didn’t I make that clear last night? I thought I could show you better than I could tell you. But yes, I love you, Liz.” He said, kissing her softly again. 

They relaxed like that just kissing and laughing together for a while before he sighed, bringing their fun to an end. “Well, we better go. Do you need to run home first for clothes? I can just focus percussion and bones while you take the morning and you can hook back up after lunch?” 

She threw on his black t-shirt he was wearing the day before and walked over to kiss him. Still pantyless. 

“Sounds good. Thank you.”  

He couldn’t resist grabbing her ass as she wrapped her arms around his neck for a few more seconds to make out.

 

Elizabeth called Fletcher on her way to class to ask if he’d like her to pick him up lunch. 

“Fletcher.” He answered. She thought she heard the sound of trumpets dying. 

“Hey- are you still with the group? I’m so sorry I’m bothering you..” 

“You aren’t bothering me, darlin'. What’s up?” 

She smiled to herself.. 

“I’m just on my way there, was going to grab some lunch and wanted to see if I could bring you anything?” 

“You pick. See you in a bit, ok? Just wrapping up here. Love you.” and hung up. 

She was shocked he just said it like that so casually. Also wondered if the class heard him but now worried this was going to be obvious when she walked in and delivered him lunch. She grabbed a couple of subs on the way and headed to the conservatory. She hid them in her bag hoping to be more conspicuous.

Fletcher invited her into his office and closed the door while the trombone players were still practicing. He half sat on the edge of his desk, just watching her for a moment.

“Move in with me.” Fletcher stated out of thin air. Not really asking.  

“What?” Elizabeth almost choked on her sandwich. 

“Well, we’ve already established we love each other. You and I both know you’re coming home with me every night. Why not avoid the pain of having to go home in the mornings for clothes. It’s practical.” he said as she just stared. “Fine. I love you and want to spend all my free time with you like a pussy-whipped teenage boy.” He added with a sarcastic tone, but she knew he meant it. 

“Fletc..Terence,” she continued..”are you sure about this? I know this has been moving awfully fast.” 

“Fast is my tempo, baby.” He winked at her. He was in such a cute, goofy mood today she couldn’t say no. She didn’t want to say no. 

“Ok.” she said with sureness. “I’d love to.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! More chapters to come! Leave some love!


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